Across the Stars
by chinocoop81
Summary: Ryan sees Marissa at the airport, not Kaitlin, and they begin to fall in love all over again. But you cannot exist in two different worlds. Is this a new beginning, or a tragic end? RM one shot.


**A/N This is long, emotional, and unrealistic - but I hope you enjoy it anyway. R/R, and enjoy.**

Since Marissa left him, Ryan had a lot of things he'd wished he'd told her.

Things like, _I love you._

Like, _I'm sorry_.

Like, _I am so in love with you that it's hard to breathe._

As the days wore on, he began to accept there are some things he would never speak aloud. Words he would never utter to her, secrets he would keep locked within himself until he died.

On his way to the airport he forgets every single word he had thought in her absence. Forgets every breath, every sleepless night, every thought except for the most important. _She is alive. I love her. _

For once in their dramatic lives, it feels that simple.

XXXXX

She wears her pink Berkeley hoodie. He thinks this would be her if he had never broken up with her. He'd be pulling both of their suitcases, and he'd have his hand in hers, fingers laced together. He would reach over and kiss her in front of the entire airport just because he _could_.

He taps her on the shoulder. She turns around, her eyes devoid of their familiar warmth because she simply doesn't know him. Yet, he knows her. He has kissed every single freckle, every curve, every inch of her body. And seeing her, he remembers everything.

She offers a kind smile. "Um, hi."

He can't keep the smile off his face, the goofy, unrestricted grin he never gives. "Hi."

She tilts her head at him, looking at him curiously. "Um, who are you?"

_Whoever you want me to be_. The words are on his tongue, but he restrains himself. "Ryan," he says, stretching out his hand. "Ryan Atwood."

She glances down at his hand before gazing back into his eyes, smiling as she accepts his handshake. "Marissa Cooper."

She glances down at their hands, and he knows she feels it – that spark, that connection.

_We're from different worlds_. _I'm not like you_.

_My life just doesn't work without you_.

"It's nice to meet you, Marissa." And the look on his face makes her know that he means it.

XXXXX

The Cohens are throwing a party that night. He finds Seth working at the comic book store and scores an invite. He has two hundred dollars in his pocket, but that's it, and he doesn't know where he will live or work or what he can possibly do here in this world, but somehow it doesn't matter. All that matters is knowing Marissa is alive and he will see her tonight and maybe this is his second chance.

Sandy is married to Julie, and Kirsten is married to Jimmy, who allows Ryan to stay in a guest room. Seth lends him a suit, and immediately offers to help Ryan in whatever way since he has no friends and Ryan is the only person who has even made conversation with him in years. Ryan accepts it and this solves one of his problems, though he isn't worried, not in the least. He's Ryan Atwood. He can figure these things out.

At the party, he observes the twinkling Christmas lights strewn across the room. He has never loved Christmas, only _Chrismukkah_, and only with _her_ but this year he loves it all – every sight and smell and feeling because this year is different. This year it means more.

He is reveling in the glow of the lights, of the smoothness of the champagne, when he sees her across the room. And just like every time she walks into the room, his eyes are drawn to her and he cannot look away. He doesn't even want to.

Taylor walks to his side, sipping her own glass of champagne. She follows his gaze and tries to hide the frown from him, but he isn't even looking, hasn't even noticed her presence. "I see you found Marissa."

Ryan doesn't even turn to her, doesn't even care. "She's really here," he merely says, his lips turning upwards, his eyes sparkling with the Christmas lights.

Taylor has never seen Ryan smile like this, and she has never seen this happiness. Or maybe, she just doesn't remember, _cannot _remember a Ryan not overwrought with grief. "You look good with a smile," she says, her own heart breaking as she watches him fall in love with Marissa all over again.

Ryan finally glances her way, his smile widening. "Thank you."

"For what?" Taylor blushes at his gaze, even though she knows on some deeper level this smile is not for her.

"Everything." He places his glass of champagne down, ready to approach Marissa once again, but Taylor grabs his arm.

"Ryan, you can't continue going up to her," Taylor says quietly.

His eyes find Marissa's, and they connect from across the room. She gives him a cute smile in greeting, and he can't help his own lopsided smile. She is really here, and he doesn't care what Taylor has to say because Marissa is _alive _and why can't he talk to her? "I have to."

"Ryan, you're from different worlds."

Ryan turns to look at Taylor, pulling his arm from her grasp gently. With a slight shrug and a knowing sparkle in his eyes, he murmurs, "We always were."

He walks away from Taylor before she can start spouting off how these things never work, and you can't just switch universes, and it's impossible to live in two places at once. There was a catch somewhere, she wanted to say. You can't go on pretending you belong here.

But she watches the way his whole body lights up in Marissa's presence, even at the sight of the girl, and Taylor doesn't even feel jealous – only sad. Bittersweet.

_You can't exist in two different worlds._

But maybe, Taylor thought, he just couldn't exist in a world without Marissa Cooper.

XXXXX

Marissa is a social butterfly, every bit the Newport Golden Princess as she mingles at the party. Ryan watches her for a while, then goes outside to get some air. Even from afar, seeing her still takes his breath away. Right now he needs some space to breathe.

He blows out a puff of air through his mouth, watching the moisture condense in the air. It surprises him since California very rarely gets this cold. He places his hands into his trouser pockets, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

He is at the end of the driveway, right at the spot where he first met Marissa. If he closes his eyes, he can still see her smile, still see the sparkle in her eyes.

_She gave me this smile_.

He opens his eyes and sees the real Marissa watching him curiously, an eyebrow quirked. "I didn't expect to see anyone else out here," she says, smiling hesitantly.

He takes a step back and gestures at the spot. "Just getting some air. Enjoying the night." He looks up at the sky, sees the stars. "It's cold out."

Marissa nods, shivering. Ryan immediately offers her his jacket, which she accepts with a grateful smile. "It really is. I don't know where this cold front came in."

Ryan only smiles, trying not to stare at her in amazement. He is aware he must tread carefully around her. He knows she doesn't know him. He is only a stranger. "Marissa, right?"

She smiles and nods, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "And you're Ryan. Ryan Atwood."

Ryan can't stop the smile at the sound of her saying his name. "That would be me." He sticks his hands in his pockets again, then nods in the direction of the party. "You grow tired of the party?"

She glanced over her shoulder at the Cohen house, shrugging. "I don't know. I never really feel like I belong." She realizes what she's just revealed, and immediately turns to him in alarm. He merely stares at her understandingly, and she relaxes. She barely knows anything about him, but she feels comfortable. Safe. "Sometimes I come out here and just stand at the end of the driveway. My parents used to own the house next door. I don't know what it is, but if I stand right here…" She moves and stands right where he first saw her all those years ago, taking his breath away. "I feel…I can't describe it."

Ryan's smile falls away, and his throat grows thick with emotion. He swallows hard, looking away, not wanting her to notice anything different in his eyes. "Maybe in some other life you stood there in an important moment," he offers, kicking a small loose pebble.

Marissa quirks and eyebrow, laughing. "That must be it." He smiles softly, shrugging as if to say 'you never know.' She observes him for a long moment, then looks down, blushing. "Well, I should probably get back inside before my mom starts wondering where I wandered off to." She slides off his jacket and hands it back to him. "Thank you."

He doesn't say anything, just smiles and watches her walk away. He puts on the jacket again since it's cold out. The wind blows, and he realizes the jacket smells like her.

He almost wants to cry.

He'd thought he'd never smell that vanilla honey combination again.

XXXXX

Sometime after Marissa's death, Ryan started to jog.

It took away from the pain, made it entirely physical. Running so fast he could hardly breathe – at least he had a _reason _for the shortness of breath, the lack of air. At least he knew it wasn't simply more panic at living in a world without her.

He jogs now, with the sun rising against the beach. He runs in the sand, which makes it harder, and he observes this new world that looks so much like the old one. But there are subtle differences. Here, there are shops that don't exist back home. He thinks maybe this universe is full of dreams that came true, and businesses that never closed, and that's the magic of it all.

He finds her at the lifeguard station. He had not expected to see her this early in the morning. Before, she never woke up before ten unless she had to. He had always loved to wake her up.

She merely stares out at the ocean, and he jogs over to her. Their eyes meet, and she smiles. "Hey."

He returns her smile. "Hey."

"A bit early, isn't it?" she asks as he walks up the ramp towards her, plopping himself down in his familiar spot without even thinking of asking her for permission.

"I could say the same to you."

She nods, the smile still on her face. "I missed it. The ocean. Newport. This rickety little lifeguard stand that no one ever uses but me." She pats the wood, runs her hand over the rail affectionately

"College?" he asks, because he knows very little about her present life.

"Yeah. I go to Berkeley," she reveals, shrugging it off.

"Why Berkeley?"

She turns to look at him, their eyes meeting again. "You know, no one has ever asked me that."

He smiles, eyes sparkling. "Maybe I'm different."

She observes him seriously, reading his face. She knows nothing about him, but she feels like she knows him. And he knows her. And she feels like they have met before, but she knows they haven't. She has never seen him before yesterday, she is sure. "Maybe." She looks back out at the water. "I don't know why Berkeley. I got a flyer in the mail, and it just seemed…right."

"Do you go with your friends?" He wants to know if she has a boyfriend, but he won't ask because it doesn't really matter, anyway. He has overcome boyfriends before. He can do it again.

"I actually go on my own. I mean, I made friends there, but I don't know anyone from Newport there. My best friend Summer is here with her fiancé, and my ex-boyfriend Luke moved to Portland years ago."

"No current boyfriends?" he asks, playing it cool.

She smirks, watching him from the corner of her eyes. "Nope. Just me."

He can't help the grin on his face. She notices.

XXXXX

He asks her to breakfast, and she accepts.

They talk for hours, long after their plates have been cleared and their drinks refilled and customers changed. They talk about so many things, like her classes in college, her years in high school, her parents' divorce. He never runs out of things to ask her, and he keeps her talking endlessly, absorbing all the information. He finds her interesting and funny and remembers all the things about her that he'd slowly forgotten – like the way she plays with her hair when nervous, and the bubbliness of her laugh.

He tells her he is from Chino, and he has no family or friends or even a place to stay except for the room her father has allowed him. He tells her he has just moved here from far away, a place she can't imagine, a place he never wants to return to again. He tells her his mom was an alcoholic and his father was in prison and his brother ran away after hurting Ryan badly and unforgivably.

He tells her he is thinking about staying in Newport for a while.

She tells him she can show him around, give him pointers on who to avoid and what to do.

He smiles widely, a smile that makes her heart skip a beat every single times he sees it.

He tells her he'd really like that.

XXXXX

The days pass, and Marissa starts to consider him a legitimate friend.

He does not know when this change begins, but he notices it one day as they walk along the pier together. She does not question their relationship, and neither does he, but they know there is something between them. He has always known it. She is just beginning to realize it. He finds this so different from his old home, where it was the opposite.

He tells her things he never told her before, like how his father used to hit him and Trey, and how sometimes he ran to Theresa's house when his parents got physical with each other, and how his teachers didn't pay attention to his bruises at school. He tells her he used to pray every single night to go to sleep and just not wake up so that he didn't have to deal with the screaming and violence anymore.

During one of his stories, she reaches for his hand and laces their fingers together. He continues speaking, looking down at their hands, and he tries to hide his smile at the sight. Her hand is warm and soft and just another indication that she's here – she's _alive_.

"I really like talking to you," he says, looking over at her quickly before glancing down, embarrassed. He has tried to become more open, more honest, but it is odd for him to be this vulnerable. He has never tried this hard with anyone before.

She squeezes his hand, smiles, blushing. "I really like talking to you, too."

XXXXX

At another party, he finds her and they both drift to the corner where no one bothers them. "I really hate these parties," she confides in him as she looks around the room, observing this odd Newport world where no one is with the right person and everything is out of place, but anything is possible.

"They have their perks," he murmurs, looking at her, his eyes sparkling. He doesn't even have to smile because she can just feel it instead.

"Oh really? Like what?" she asks, turning to him, raising her eyebrows challengingly.

"Good company," he says smoothly, looking into her eyes, seeing all the things she never meant to show him.

She leans in a little closer to him, angling her head at him. The way he looks at her sometimes makes her feel like the only person in the entire universe, and she has never felt this way before. So intrigued and curious and light and happy. It's like she has lived her entire life without realizing she was actually asleep, and now Ryan is here and she is awake. When he looks at her, she can feel her entire body sing.

But they are interrupted by Taylor, whom Ryan had not talked to since the first night. He has forgotten she existed, and he almost feels bad about this, but he _can't_. Marissa has priority.

She grabs Ryan's arm, and pulls him to the side, speaking quickly. "Ryan, something happened. I…I'm leaving. I'm going back."

"Taylor, what are you talking about?" he asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

"I think…I did what I needed to do. I thought I was supposed to fix everything, to make this world right again, but I was just supposed to fix _me_, you know?"

"Taylor, slow down. What are you talking about?"

She looks at him very seriously, then looks over his shoulder at Marissa, who is watching them with confused and slightly hurt eyes. When her eyes meet his again, she sighs. "Ryan, you can't keep doing this. You have to tell her. Or don't tell her, and leave. Come home."

"I...that's not an option," he says, to both of her suggestions.

"Ryan, you don't belong here."

"I definitely don't belong _there_."

"You're going to have to make a decision. Here or there. You can't exist in two worlds, Ryan, and you definitely can't keep up this little charade. You're going to get hurt. You were always going to get hurt. Everyone's going to get hurt. You have a family, remember? You have a home." She tightens her grip on his arm. She feels herself slowly slipping away.

"I have nothing there anymore. I lost whatever hold on that place when she…" He trails off, his eyes filling with emotion as he remembers his life before this world. As he remembers a life without Marissa. "I can't go back."

"You have to choose, Ryan," Taylor says, the last thing she ever says to him.

He watches her leave, and he knows she won't return. What happened, or where she is going, he doesn't know. He doesn't know how to get back. He doesn't want to know.

He doesn't understand what she means about choosing.

To him, there is no choice.

And if there is, he's already made his.

He turns back to Marissa, who is staring at him with an unreadable expression. She has heard the whole thing, and does not know what to think about him anymore. "Marissa…" he murmurs, but she shakes her head, taking a step back.

"Who are you?" She asks, barely a whisper, before turning around and walking away from him.

He watches her walk away. He thinks he'd be whoever she wants him to be, if she'd only let him.

XXXXX

He finds her outside, standing at the end of the driveway. "My name is Ryan Atwood," he tells her, looking at her with kind eyes. Troubled eyes. Stormy blue eyes. "I am originally from Chino, but I was adopted the summer before my sophomore year of high school. On August 5, 2003, I came to this house…" He points to the Cohen house. "And I stayed for the weekend. While Sandy talked to Kirsten, I walked down to this spot…" He stands in the spot he first met her, and closes his eyes, seeing the scene before him. "And I looked over right there." He points to where she is standing, shivering with the cold, shivering with confusion, shivering with fear. "And I saw you."

Her eyes widen, and she shakes her head furiously. "I've never met you before last week. I never knew you. I never…"

"_You _never met _me_," Ryan murmurs, slowly opening his eyes to stare at the live Marissa Cooper before him. "But _I _know _you_. I've known you for years."

Marissa shakes her head again, unwilling to listen, to believe this absolute lunatic in front of her. "You're…you're crazy. You need help."

Ryan shakes his head, reaching for her, but she backs away. "Marissa, I'm telling you the truth. I told you – I'm not from around here. I didn't lie. I'm from…" He groans, running his hand over his head frustratedly, knowing he sounds insane. "I'm from another world. Another world where you and I have already met, and we dated, and we fell in love…"

Marissa looks at him, her eyes narrowing. She is talking to a complete madman. This boy she thought she had a connection with, this gorgeous and attractive boy who she actually thought about _kissing _earlier, is absolutely insane – in need of a mental evaluation. "If what you're saying is true, why aren't you there? Why are you here?"

"I fell off a roof. That girl…Taylor? She was there too. She was a friend, sort of. It's complicated." He sighs, kicking a pebble, frustrated.

"Uh huh. And you what? You popped into my world? You just – appeared?" She looks at him like he is crazy, and maybe he is, but he knows he is right. He knows he is here for a reason – he is here because of her.

"Yes. For lack of better explanation, yes. I just appeared here."

"Then why don't you go back? Leave. Go to your old world with the other me and just leave me alone," she says loudly, backing away from him. She is terrified. She is frightened. She is one step away from calling the police and getting him committed.

"I can't go back," he murmurs, looking at her sadly. His eyes are water and she is trying not to drown. She won't let herself. Not again.

"Why not?"

"Because…" He looks down, his voice choking up. When his eyes meet hers again, she sees he is lost. He is alone. He is sad – no, not _sad –_ he is _broken_. "You died."

Without another word, she _runs_ away.

XXXXX

He does not see her again for a full forty hours. He does not go looking for her, knowing it would only scare her. He figures she needs time, and that's really all he has in this world.

He thinks a lot in her absence. He has somehow blown his only chance of being with her by telling the truth. He does not blame her for thinking he is crazy. He only blames himself for everything that happened. For having to be here in the first place.

Forty hours after she runs away from him, she slides into the booth across from him at the diner. He lifts his eyes to hers, and she is staring at him blankly. She has hidden herself from him, but he still knows everything about her. He still knows what she is thinking.

"You're crazy."

"I'm telling you the truth," he murmurs, staring at her very seriously.

It's his sincerity that confuses her. He is either a very good liar, or absolutely insane. She cannot decide which is true. So, she says, "Show me."

"Show you what?"

"Everything." She gestures between them. "Show me where everything happened. If it's true, I'll know. If you're lying, I'll figure it out. And if you're as crazy as you seem, I can get you help."

He stares at her for a long time, wondering why she is giving him a chance. He does not know she is merely testing him so she can tell Sandy everything later. He only knows this is his third chance with her, and he will not blow it.

"Okay. Follow me."

XXXXX

He does not know how or even where to begin telling her how he came to love her. He does not have the words to tell her that he thinks maybe he always did love her in some way, that sometimes she makes him believe in the absolute naïve notion of love at first sight.

So, he takes her with him as he remembers everything. He thinks that maybe these memories will be strong enough – that maybe he can just make her _feel _the power of the past.

"I met you at the end of the driveway…" He places her in the exact spot he first met her, and then walks to where he stood. "You stood there, I stood here."

"What were you doing here?" Marissa asks, her arms folded across her chest.

"I got into trouble. My brother stole a car, and I got in with him so I got arrested." He observes her face for any signs of emotion, but she remains stoic. "Sandy was my lawyer. But my mom threw me out, so he took me in for the weekend. Or, what he thought would be the weekend."

Marissa thinks this over, wondering whether she should be afraid of this stranger in front of her. A few days ago and she thought he was maybe the safest person to be with. Now, she doesn't know what to think. "Okay. So, we meet. What do you say?"

"Actually, you talked to _me_ first," he says, slowly smiling. "You asked, 'Who are you?'"

When he doesn't immediately tell her the response, she asks, "What did you say?"

"Whoever you want me to be."

She quirks an eyebrow, and he cannot help but smile at the memory. She sees this. She thinks he is perhaps a little more insane than she thought. "Wow, smooth line."

"You didn't seem to think so then, either," he says, laughing, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I was smoking, though, and you asked if you could 'bum a cigarette.'"

Marissa's cheeks burn. "No one knows that I smoked."

He looks at her long and carefully. "Well, you told _me_."

She wonders if he is a stalker, too. She wonders if this is all some bad idea and she should run off because he's obviously insane. She wonders if she should talk to Sandy right now about getting this guy committed.

But she also wonders about the feeling she has always gotten when she stands in this one particular spot. And she wonders why she has always looked over at where he is standing as if she is waiting for something. Or someone. And she wonders how he possibly could have known any of this, because even if he stalked her, he couldn't have seen into her thoughts.

"We talked. Or, I talked, really? You didn't believe me then, either, about my mom and brother. Thought I was a cousin from Boston." He glances down. "Sandy came and interrupted us. And you invited me to the Fashion Show Fundraiser the next night."

Marissa raises her eyebrows. "The one right before sophomore year?"

Ryan nods. "That's the one. You were pretty that night. I mean, you were always pretty." Marissa just looks down, not wanting to look him in the eye. He takes the hint. "I saw you at the beach party after. Only briefly, though. But when I got back and Seth had passed out, I went for a walk." He reaches out for her hand, surprising her. His hand is warm and strong, and it makes her whole body react. When he notices her hesitance, he pulls his hand back. "Sorry. Just…follow me."

He starts walking away, not giving her a chance to respond. He knows if he does, she might not follow him. They arrive at her old house, and he points to the ground. "Summer left you here, passed out. I saw from over there." He points to the Cohen house. "So, I came over to try to help you. But you wouldn't wake up, and I couldn't find your keys…so I carried you to the Cohens' pool house. It's where I was staying. And I let you sleep in the bed so you wouldn't be uncomfortable."

Marissa furrows her eyebrows. "Wait, you carried me?"

Ryan nods, shifting uncomfortably. They had never talked about this. They had never discussed how he'd saved her that night, or what she thought when she woke up the next morning. Suddenly, he wishes they had talked about this. And so many other things. There are so many things he still wants to know.

"I couldn't leave you on the hard ground," he merely mumbles.

Marissa lets out a huff of breath, folding her arms back over her chest. "Gosh… I was so drunk that night. When I woke up in the morning, my parents yelled at me for over an hour." She laughs, though it isn't funny. "I was grounded for the rest of the summer. Didn't get to go to TJ. Didn't get to go out with my friends. Or Luke…" She looks down, lost in her memory. "I thought it was the end of the world, not being able to hang out with my friends. But in a way I'm glad for it, you know? Other than Cotillion, I wasn't in society when shit hit the fan and my dad's fraud came out." She looks at him. "Wait…do you know about…?"

"Your dad's embezzlement?" He nods. "Yeah. We briefly talked about it when you were worried about him but didn't know what was going on. Told me some guys kept coming to your house. And I was there with you at Cotillion when Holly's dad hit him."

She is confused. "Wait, _you _took me to Cotillion?" He nods. "What about Luke?"

"He broke up with you…because he didn't like me." He shrugs, not apologetic at all.

She huffs again. "This is so weird." She blinks a few times, shaking her head. "Anyway. I wasn't out in public when everything went wrong." She laughs bitterly. "Which means I wasn't out there to see my boyfriend banging every freshman." She blinks again, pushing away the memories. She was over it. She never loved Luke, not really. "So, what did I say when I woke up?"

Ryan scratches his nose, stuffing his other hand into his pocket again. "Nothing. We never talked about it. In the morning you woke up and left before I could see, and we never discussed it. Well, you thanked me a few days later, but we never discussed it in detail." She gives him a look like she doesn't buy it. "Come on." He leads her back to the driveway. "The closest we ever got to talking about it was when I left later that morning. Sandy and I drove away in his car, and you were standing right here." He points to the spot, and she stands there, once again surprised at how right it felt. "We locked eyes." At her smirk, he laughs. "I know. It sounds corny. But we did. And I don't know…it's like I could just see that you were grateful."

"So you went back to…?"

"Chino." He smiles. "I'm from Chino." He stuffs his hands into his pockets again. "And yeah, Sandy took me back. We drove away, and I saw you there at the end of the driveway again. It was weird. I felt…sad." He looks at her. "I thought I'd never see you again."

"But you did."

He nods, smiles. "Yeah. I did."

XXXXX

He takes her all over Newport, showing her different things. He shows her where the model home is; a family of five live there. He shows her the path where they rode his bike. He tells her all about the Model Home Mix from memory, and actually makes her smile because she loves all of those songs. He shows her where his mom made a fool of herself at Casino Night. He shows her where he told her he was staying in Newport. He shows her where he first asked her out, and where she stood when she said yes.

By the time he tells her about their first date, she is more at ease around him. She doesn't fold her arms across her chest as much. She isn't afraid to smile. It's two days after he first began telling her their journey, and she may not believe him, but she isn't afraid of him anymore.

"So, I made you grilled cheese. You brought over leftover macaroni," he says, showing her the infinity pool in the backyard.

"Very fancy," she says, her voice actually teasing. It makes him smile.

"That's what you said then, too," he says, looking down to hide the light in his eyes.

"Well, I think I need to try these grilled cheeses," she suggests, eyes playful. "For science."

"For science," he repeats, laughing. Looking at her, he realizes she is starting to trust him. And maybe it isn't a lot, but it's something. "Okay. Tonight."

He makes them grilled cheeses. He sets up their plates and has them sit in the same way. He tells her how she was hurting because of her dad, and how she felt lost, and how he hadn't wanted her to ever feel that way because he understood it. And when he sees he has her full attention, he even tells her about his own home in Chino, and how the Cohens taking him in was the greatest thing to ever happen to him. He tells her even now it all feels like a dream.

"No offense, but this doesn't sound like it was a very exciting date," she remarks, wiping her hands on her napkin. "Not to say you weren't good at conversation, but it just seems…"

"Boring," he offers, eyes shining in that way they do whenever he looks at her. "It wasn't boring. I… spiced things up."

"How?"

"We…played in the pool," he says carefully. She raises her eyebrows, and he smiles at her amusement. "I tried to push you in. We could reenact it, you know." His eyes sparkle. "I could push you in right now."

He moves to tickle her, but she squirms out of his grasp before he can even touch her. "Oh, no, I think I'm fine."

He stands and picks up their plates, moving them aside. Jimmy, Kirsten, and Seth are all out having dinner without him. He doesn't mind. He is only a guest, and even though it's weird, he can live with this. After all, he has something he'd thought he'd lost forever.

He doesn't notice Marissa coming up behind him until he feels her pulling him towards the pool. "It's fifty degrees outside," he reminds her as he struggles not to fall into the pool.

She pushes him harder. "Good thing it's heated."

"I'm pulling you with me," he warns, pulling her down into the pool.

And just like all those years ago, they play in the water. It is light. It is carefree. It is everything he had thought he'd lost forever right here, and his laughter is real. His smile is genuine. His eyes are so bright, outshining all the stars.

He is Ryan. And she is Marissa. And for now that's all that matters.

XXXXX

He continues showing her things. Where she found him with Gabrielle. Where she told him it was too late. Where he was when Seth told him about Tijuana.

"You overdosed there. In Tijuana," he tells her as they walk along the pier eating balboa bars together.

Her eyes widen. "Really? I mean, I know I was upset with my dad and my parents' divorce. I was really upset when I found out Luke was cheating on me right before the Tijuana trip. But I never felt…suicidal."

"You said you didn't want to kill yourself. It was only an escape," he says slowly, looking down, remembering when he found her in that alley. It had scared him. They never talked about this, either, or how he felt sick to his stomach when he found her like that. How he wanted to cry thinking he might never see her again, but was unable to cry – until she _really _died, that is. How he didn't sleep for days afterward because he still had nightmares that he was finding her in that alley all over again, each time too late.

"Did you…find me?" she asks, taking not of his prolonged silence.

He nods, swallowing hard, blinking harder. "Yeah. In an alley in Mexico. I also called the ambulance." He throws away his balboa bar, no longer hungry. "Your mom blamed me for everything, of course."

She laughs at that. "Of course." When he doesn't say anything else, she looks up at him, observing the way his shoulders hunched and his eyes glazed over with some past pain. She doesn't know what to think about Ryan Atwood. She knows what he says is impossible. You can't come from different worlds. But sometimes in moments like this she wonders if maybe he isn't crazy. Maybe he _is _telling the truth. "Ryan?"

"Hmm?" He doesn't look up, still lost.

"Do you…blame yourself? For what I did?"

His eyes immediately lift, and he meets her eyes. And she can see it, plain as day. He blames himself. For so many things, and this was just the first in a long string of events that he thinks he caused. Slowly, he nods. "If I hadn't come to Newport…"

She laughs at that. "My life would still be a mess."

"But you wouldn't have OD'ed," he protests.

She shrugs. "I didn't OD. That's true. But if I was alone in Tijuana with all that other crap going on and bottle of pills and cheap liquor… who knows what I would have done if my parents didn't catch me in time."

He shrugs, looking down. "Maybe."

As she observes the guilt written all over his face, she begins to feel for him. She almost wants to reach out and comfort him.

And in that moment, her feelings for this crazy stranger start to change.

XXXXX

He shows her where she stayed in the hospital. He tells her how he helped spring her out, how she called _him _when her mom threatened to send her to an institution. He shows her where she stayed with her dad, where she stood when she first kissed his cheek, where they all got pizza on the pier.

He begins to tell her about school. How he was so overwhelmed, but she helped him with that when they started dating. How they almost didn't start dating because he was being jealous about her and Luke when he really shouldn't have been. How she kissed him for the first time at the kickoff carnival.

He finds the yacht where they had their first date as an official couple. Smiles as he tells her she slept over the first time that night, but nothing happened and he was and still is okay with that. Shows her where they had their first fight as a couple, and where they first made up. Made her blush when he told her they were three dates in when she finally let him reach second base.

He takes her to the front of the Cohen's house, and points to where they stood the night after they went to see the Russel Crowe film. "You were standing right there, and I was standing right here when you told me you loved me."

She raises her eyebrows in surprise. "I told you first?"

He nods. "Right here. A little before New Years. We just got back from the movies, and we were kissing. And you said you loved me."

She bites her lip. "What did you say?"

"Thank you." At her look he laughs. "I know. Really, really stupid. I thought I lost you for good after that."

"You didn't love me?" she asks, in the back of her mind finding it surreal that she is going along with this like this is nothing out of the ordinary.

"I did. I just didn't know yet." At her still confused stare, he explains, "I had never told anyone I loved them before, much less a girl. I didn't even know what love was. But I did..love you." He looks into her eyes, and she looks into his, and he doesn't need to speak what he's thinking.

_I still do_.

"Where did you first tell me?" she asks softly, never breaking the eye contact.

He smiles. "I'm going to show you tonight."

"Tonight? But it's New Years Eve." She quirks an eyebrow.

"I know. But you already told me you didn't have plans. So.. I thought I'd show you." At her uncertainty, he quietly asks, "Trust me?" And it holds more weight than he wants it to.

Nodding slowly, she decides she does.

XXXXX

When she tells her mom and Sandy that she's going out with Ryan, her mom huffs before walking away, and Sandy just stands there with concern. When her mom had completely left, Sandy said, "You know, there isn't much we know about him."

Marissa nods, rubbing her arms, cold and hot all at the same time. "I know."

"He just appeared one day, and we have no idea where he came from. Seth says he's a good kid, and I know you get along with him really well, but I'm still a little concerned at how little we know about him."

"You're not my dad, Sandy," Marissa reminds him quietly, not wanting to hurt him but needing to voice her thoughts.

He nods. "I know, Marissa. And I'm not trying to be. But I did look him up."

"You…what?" Marissa gives him a look.

"I had someone do some background information on him."

"What did you find?" Marissa asked, curious. Because if Ryan was telling the truth, then he wouldn't have a trace. He doesn't exist in this world. Or isn't supposed to.

But if her original inclination was correct, he might have gotten arrested or been committed. And that could very easily be found.

"Nothing." Marissa releases a breath she doesn't know she's holding. "Absolutely nothing. It's like he never existed."

This makes sense. This makes Ryan's story at least a little more plausible, even though it is still by all means impossible. He could be using an alias. Ryan Atwood could be a made up name.

_Or he could be telling the truth_.

"Just… promise me you'll be careful, okay?"

Marissa nods. "I will."

After all, despite the craziness, she still feels safe with Ryan.

XXXXX

"Why are we at the Four Seasons?" Marissa asks, raising her eyebrows at Ryan. It is twenty minutes to midnight, and thus far their evening has consisted of miscellaneous locations – like where she made him try calamari for the first time, and where they double dated with Seth and Summer sometime down the line.

"You'll see," he says, reaching out his hand for her to take. "Trust me?" he repeats, partially because he just wants to hear her say yes. She nods, not able to say the words, suddenly overcome with emotion. Instead, she slips her hand into his, and lets him lead her inside the building.

"On New Years Eve of 2003, you came to the Four Seasons with this guy named Oliver," Ryan says, trying not to grimace at Oliver's name.

"Wait…Oliver, like Oliver Trask?" Marissa asks, her eyes widening.

Ryan is the one confused. "Yeah… how do you know him?"

"He was all over the papers back in 2004. He killed himself in the penthouse after he fell in love with some girl from therapy and it wasn't requited." She furrows her eyebrows. "What was I doing at a party with him?"

Ryan is trying to process the fact that Oliver is dead in this world. "You were friends with him. You met in therapy…"

"Wait, so in your world _I _was therapy girl?" She widens her eyes. "How…did he die?"

Ryan shakes his head. "No. That's another story. But now, we don't have a lot of time." He leads her to the staircase.

"Can't we use an elevator?" Marissa asks, slightly groaning.

Ryan smiles, trying not to laugh. "I want you to see what I went through that night." She gives him a look, waiting for him to explain. So he does. "You went to the party with Oliver because you were still upset with me for not saying I love you back. But then Hailey, Kirsten's sister, inadvertently made me realize that I do love you, and that I needed to be with you on New Years. Long story short, I had to race against the clock to get to you."

"Why did you have to race against the clock?"

They are on the third floor now. "Drama with Hailey and Seth. I had to leave late, and then there was traffic and the elevator was being too slow." Fourth floor. "I didn't have a lot of time, so I ran up the stairs."

They continue walking up the stairs as quickly as possible, Ryan remembering how he had run years ago. They are the same stairs, the same walls. He feels like he is back in 2003 racing up the stairs to get to his girlfriend. Except, now his girlfriend is gone forever. In his world, at least.

As they reach the top, he looks over at Marissa, his throat tightening with emotion. She looks over at him, their eyes locking. "What now?"

He blinks away his thoughts, and says, "I ran over here." He looks at the clock and smiles, seeing they have just enough time. "And I opened the door." He opens the door, and leads her inside where there is a party going on. He had seen the flyers a few days ago, and kind of invited himself. They wouldn't stay long anyway. "You were standing right here…." He positions her in just the right place. "When you saw me. And we looked at each other, and you smiled. Really smiled, your eyes and everything."

He smiles as he remembers, lost in the memory of this one iconic moment of his life. "And we walked toward each other, and met right here." He pulls her to the place where they had finally settled. "And we kissed. Just in time."

Everyone shouted Happy New Year to each other, and Ryan looked at Marissa very seriously, his eyes so incredibly sad. She finds she cannot look away, and her heart is breaking by just looking into his eyes. She has never felt this drawn to anyone, and with everyone around them kissing, she feels so tempted to lean in.

"I pulled back, and I told you I love you," he says, his voice so soft and light as he angles his head at her. And maybe it doesn't matter that he isn't from around here – whether that means Newport, or from her _world. _Maybe it doesn't matter that in this world he doesn't really exist, or isn't supposed to. Maybe it doesn't matter that he might be absolutely insane, or that if he isn't insane then everything in her world is completely upside down. Maybe none of this matters. Maybe the only thing that does matter is that he's here, and she's here, and maybe that's just what it was always supposed to be.

"Thank you," she says, still caught up in looking at his eyes.

They sparkle, and she smiles.

XXXXX

Back in old Newport, Taylor is watching Ryan slowly deteriorate in front of her.

When she woke up from the coma, she immediately rushed to Ryan's side. She has watched him this whole time knowing he is there with _her_, _Marissa_, and unable to utter a word. They would not understand. No one would understand.

She doesn't know why he is getting worse, but she has her theories. The longer he stays there, the less he can stay here. The longer he stays away, the harder it will be to come back. The longer someone is a coma, the more unlikely it is he will wake up.

But despite all the scientific questions and the stupefied doctors, Taylor knows the real reason Ryan is not waking up. Why he isn't getting better. Why, with each passing day, his condition gets worse and worse. Why after New Years he is having trouble breathing on his own.

You cannot exist in two worlds.

And the more Marissa Cooper falls in love with him _there_, the less likely he is to come back _here_.

Every tiny vessel of Marissa's heart that becomes his takes life away from his body.

No one wants to say it, but Taylor knows the truth.

Ryan Atwood is dying. And he is getting worse as Marissa falls further and further.

It's only a matter of time.

XXXXX

Marissa begins to fear how much she likes this mysterious stranger.

She should be repulsed by him. He is insane. His words cannot hold any truth. You cannot go from one world to another. It is physically impossible. Surely someone else would know by now. He is just crazy. Insane. Zany, even.

She should be repulsed by him. Except, she isn't.

She actually _believes _him. Or she thinks she does. And that terrifies her.

So, she does what she always does when she is afraid: she pushes him away.

It happens the day after New Years. He is supposed to come and pick her up to show her where they went to their first concert together. Last night she was happy about this. Excited. Now, she is unable to get this uneasiness out from her stomach.

She cannot like Ryan Atwood. She just can't.

When he arrives, smiling, she answers the door with a blank face. His eyes brighten when he sees her. She wonders if her eyes brighten when he walks into a room. She sure hopes not. "Hey. Ready to go?"

"We need to talk," she says, opening the door for him to step into the house.

His smile disappears, but his eyes retain their brightness. He slowly walks in, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "What's up?"

As soon as she closes the door, she says, "I don't want to do this anymore."

"This?" he asks, looking at her with those blue eyes she just can't avoid.

"Act like I believe you. Act like all of this is okay." She gestures between them. "This isn't going to happen. It never happened. I don't know who you are, or who you think you are, but we never dated. We will never date. Whatever notions you have in your head of some other world are wrong."

"But…"

"No," she shakes her head, silencing him. "I've been indulging you, but not anymore. You need help, Ryan." She looks down. "If that's your name."

"It _is_," he says, his voice soft and tinier than she's ever heard it.

She looks up, and she can tell she is breaking him. It breaks her. But she can't feel this way for someone who may or may not be insane. She can't feel this way towards someone who just _doesn't exist_ _in her world_.

"It's been really interesting listening to whatever it is you think happened, but I'm putting an end to it." She opens the door. "I don't want to see you anymore. Please leave me alone. Go back to wherever you came from, and please just leave my family alone."

He finally looks back into her face, and the sadness speaks more than his words can ever say. She forgets how to breathe as she stares into the bluest eyes of the most broken boy she has and ever will see. "If you want me to leave, I won't ever bother you again. I'll go back to my world." He takes a step towards her, his gaze fixed on her. "Is that what you want?"

She stares into his eyes, unable to look away for the longest time. This _isn't _what she wants, but she thinks it's what she _needs_. Or maybe, she's just too afraid to see the difference.

Without a word, she looks down, unable to bear the sadness anymore.

He walks away, and it takes every ounce of her strength not to watch him go.

XXXXX

When she realizes what she has done, she is seized with panic. She cannot breathe. She cannot think. She has sent away the only boy who has ever looked at her as if she is the most beautiful thing in this whole world.

She believes him. She cannot tell him this yet, but she _believes _every single memory of his because it makes sense. This makes sense. They make sense in a way that nothing has ever made sense before. Every place he takes her has an energy about it. Every memory he tells her seems _real_. She can see it in her mind. Maybe she has not lived it in this life, but she feels like in another she could have.

His eyes will not leave her mind.

She goes to the old Cohen house and runs up the stairs to his room. When she bursts through the door, he is not there. The small bag with all the clothes Kirsten and her dad had bought him is gone. He is gone. Ryan is gone.

Tears fill her eyes, and she sinks down onto the bed, putting her face in her hands. She has lost him. She has lost the only boy she has ever felt this strongly for. And maybe it doesn't make sense. Maybe she should be glad he is gone, but she _isn't_. What if he has gone back to his world and she can never see him again? What if he is back to not existing?

She searches all the places he has taken her. The driveway. The pool house. The crab shack. The diner. The Four Seasons. The pier. The school. Everywhere. But she cannot find him, and she realizes she should have let him finish the story. There are so many things he did not tell her. Maybe if she had let him finish, she would know where to find him.

_If he still exists_.

When she admits defeat, she walks to her lifeguard station so that she can cry in peace. It's the only place in the world she can go to and feel like she is not alone. Even when she is alone, she always feels like it is bearable there. The loneliness always becomes bearable.

She sees him sitting before he sees her. He is there staring out at the water with his small duffel bag next to him.

Marissa Cooper does not run. She does not jog. She has never felt the need to move faster than walking, but now she runs as fast as she can.

He sees her, and stands, his face stricken with pain. She reaches him, and he looks down. "I'm sorry. I can go…"

She wraps her arms around him tightly, closing her eyes and breathing him in. Feeling his body against hers. Memorizing his warmth. "I thought you went back," she whispers, a few tears falling onto his shirt.

"I tried," he says, his voice thick with emotion. "I went to where I fell off the roof, and everywhere in town. I tried so hard to go back to my world, but I…couldn't."

"I thought I'd lost you," she whispers, pulling back to look him in the eyes.

He does not understand what changed. Mostly he doesn't care. "Still here," he says, the corner of his mouth twitching into a sad smile.

"Good," she murmurs, wrapping her arms around him again. His own arms come around her, holding her close, holding her as if she might just disappear when _he _is the one who could leave at any moment.

"Good," she repeats.

XXXXX

That night, Taylor watches as the doctors begin to discuss putting Ryan on life support. His breathing is growing worse. His heart is slowing, growing weaker. He is nearing death.

Taylor knows that somewhere, Marissa Cooper is slowly falling.

And Ryan is there, ready to catch her.

XXXXX

"Are you afraid you'll just wake up one day back in the old world?" Marissa asks one day as they walk down the pier, balboa bars in hand.

He nods slowly. "Every day," he admits quietly, looking down as he walks. He dreams he is back home all the time, that the Cohens are all happy to see him and Taylor tries to kiss him, but he feels more alone than happy to see all them again. He misses his family. He even misses Taylor sometimes.

But he will never miss a world where Marissa is gone forever. He can't.

"_I _am afraid you're going to just disappear one day," Marissa admits quietly, breaking through his thoughts.

He lifts his eyes to her, observing the way her hair blows in the cool January breeze. "I thought you wanted me gone," he says, one side of his mouth lifting into a smile.

She glances his way, a ghost of a smile on her face. "I thought I did too."

He stops her, pointing to the railing. "We got back together right there."

She raises her eyebrows, then goes to lean against the railing. He smiles because she looks like she did all those years ago, still beautiful, hair even down the same way. "How did that conversation go?"

"We were talking about your mom. How she slept with Luke, like I told you." She shudders again, and he blinks quickly to rid himself of the thought. "And you said you wanted to keep that part of your life separate from this part." He rests his hands on the rail, looking out at the ocean. "I said, 'You know what we haven't done in a while?' And we kissed."

"Just like that?" She asks, raising her eyebrows.

He nods, turning to her, crooked half smile on his face. "Just like that."

She meets his gaze, her eyes sparkling in a way he hasn't seen in a long time. Too long.

He's missed it.

XXXXX

"This is where I grew up." He points to an abandoned, run down house in one of the poorer sections of Chino. Not that he had ever been to any really nice sections.

"When did you move here?"

"After my dad was arrested." He takes her hand and leads her down the street, pointing to all the different houses. "Theresa lived there. My old friend Brian lived over there, but he got arrested freshman year for bringing a weapon to school."

She takes in her surroundings, trying to imagine a young Ryan running down these streets. Or riding a bike. Or anything, really. But as she stares both at all the houses and at him, she realizes she can't picture him anywhere other than in Newport. Anywhere other than with _her_.

"Did you ever show me around?" she asks as they turn back to the car.

He shakes his head. "As I said, we only came here that once. And when you came I was too busy trying to get you to leave to show you around."

She smiles, still not entirely sure about running here to get away from everyone. It just seems too weird that she would run here of all places. Though, she _does _believe she would run here so only Ryan could find her.

"Ready to go back to Newport?" he asks as they reach the car.

She nods. "Yeah. Let's go."

XXXXX

"After everything, you just left?" Marissa asks as they stand at the end of the driveway once again. She looks out and tries to imagine Ryan driving away, but she can't. She can't imagine him just leaving, especially not after everything he has told her.

"I had to. Theresa needed me." He sighs, looking down, feeling the weight of that whole situation once again.

"Sounds like _I _needed you, too," she murmurs, glancing his way, her eyes so much more innocent than those of the Marissa who died in his arms almost eight months ago. It's nice to see her without the weight of so much past pain.

"It took me a really long time to realize that," he admits, kicking a pebble with his shoe.

"Did you ever tell her?" She blinks. "Me? That you realized it too late?"

He shakes his head, stuffing his hands in his pocket once again. "No." He kicks another pebble, this time harder. "I regret it every day."

XXXXX

He tells her about his summer away from Newport, and how the sun seemed to shine so much less brightly back in Chino. He tells her he missed her every day, and he missed the Cohens, and Seth. He tells her he tried to prepare himself to be a good father, but every night he stayed up late seized by fear because he'd never had a good father himself until Sandy.

He tells her about her phone calls in the middle of the night, and how neither of them ever said a word.

He tells her about Theresa's lie about the miscarriage, and how he came home thinking he'd start things up again. How she lied about DJ, and they went their separate ways. How he started dating Lindsay, and had she ever met Lindsay? Marissa says she _has_. Lindsay is Caleb's daughter, and the whole town talked about it for weeks junior year. But as quickly as Lindsay came, she left. And no one has seen her since.

He tells her she dated Alex, and she laughs. "I can believe I OD'ed because I have thought about it before – escaping. And I can believe my mom slept with Luke because let's face it, it's my mom. I can believe that she married Caleb. I mean, she's married to _Sandy_." She laughs again. "But I dated a girl?"

He laughs softly. "You had a connection with her. We never talked about it, but I can tell you liked her." She ponders this, and he adds, "Besides, you were never the kind to let something like gender get in the way. You kind of just accept people. It's what you do."

She decides she can accept that.

He takes her to the beach where they built the horse together. "I remember while looking at you that day I remembered I love you," he admits, refusing to look her in the eye.

She doesn't say anything, but she does reach for his hand, and that says enough.

XXXXX

One day, Ryan makes himself tell her about Trey.

He does not take her anywhere, but they take a walk on the beach as he tells her how she tried her best to make Trey's stay the best it could be. How she proved her affection for Ryan a thousand times over with every single thing she did to make Trey feel at home, and Ryan feel comfortable. How she did absolutely nothing wrong. Trey did.

He can barely say the word _rape_, even now, over a year since it had happened – almost two. He can barely utter the story aloud, but he _does_. For the first time ever he _does _tell her that Trey attempted to rape her, and she fought him off.

"Oh my god," she merely whispers, stopping in her tracks, horror written all over her face.

He wishes the story were done there.

He tells her that she didn't ever talk about it with him. She went days, weeks without telling him, and even now he doesn't quite understand why. He tells her that she dealt with all this on her own, even _after _he found out. He tells her that she went on being amazing, selfless as ever, but he was blind and he could not see all the clues pointing directly to his brother.

He tells her that Seth is the one who told him about the attempted rape. About the rage. About the burning hot anger boiling in his veins, bubbling and fizzing until he had to do something about it.

He tells her about his fight with Trey. How he wanted to kill his brother more than he had ever wanted anything in the world. How they fought, and he hit harder than he had ever hit, and how he thought he would die. He was sure he would die. He _knew _he would die, and it was okay. He was okay with dying. In that moment, he _wanted _to. It was easier than facing the truth.

He tells her about her pleas. How he had wished she never walked in because even in that moment he was still thinking of her, and how he wasn't protecting her.

He tells her about the gunshot. And the blood. And the chaos after.

He tells her all of this, and she just listens without any words.

Finally, when he is done, she says, "Show me where." So he does.

"That's the apartment." He points. "That's where Alex lived, and then where Trey lived. And where I almost died, and you shot him."

She winces at those words. _You shot him_. Because _she _didn't shoot anyone. But maybe some form of her _had_.

Looking over at Ryan, at his solemn expression and lost eyes, she thinks that even now, _she _would shoot and kill a hundred times over to save him.

She is falling in love with him.

"Are you okay?" she finally asks, reaching over to squeeze his hand.

He ponders this for a long time, mulling everything over in his head. Then, he nods slowly. "You know? I think I am." And it's the first time he can truly say this. He is _okay_ with everything that happened. He has come to terms with it. _Talking _actually helped.

He turns to her. "Thank you."

"For what?" She smiles slightly, quirking an eyebrow. She has done absolutely nothing.

He returns the smile, his eyes bright. "Everything."

XXXXX

That night, they hook Ryan up to oxygen.

After, Taylor walks into his room and holds his hand, wondering if he can feel her. She knows he can't. And why would he want to? He has _Marissa _to hold his hand.

"I'm going to miss you," she whispers, squeezing his hand. Even now, she notices his body is dropping in temperature. Slowly. Day by day he seems colder, even if it is barely noticeable.

She brushes his growing hair from his forehead, blinking back tears. "Go get her, okay?"

She knows he can't hear her.

But she says it anyway, just in case.

XXXXX

Ryan has just finished telling her how they got kicked out of school when Marissa turns to him. "Sex. You never told me about sex."

He blinks a few times, and she blushes at her boldness. "Uh, what about it?"

"When did we…. _Did _we?"

He smiles. "That's actually the next part of the story."

Her eyes widen. "It took this long? Two years? _Really_?" Because she hasn't even kissed the guy and still sometimes wants to jump his bones.

"We never got that far. I don't know." He rubs the back of his neck, and if he were the blushing kind, he would surely be red all over.

She grins, deciding to make the moment more playful than awkward. "Was it _romantic_?"

He still won't look at her, too embarrassed. "Yes."

"Aw, rose petals? Candles? Some cheesy music?"

He finally lifts his eyes to hers, the tiniest smile on his face. "Come on. I'll show you where."

She follows him to the beach, raising her eyebrows. "The beach? Kinky."

He laughs, shaking his head at her, shyness written all over his face. He has told her how he fell in love with her, how the thought of his brother hurting her made him want to die – but _this _is what makes him shy. "You were going to move to Hawaii with your parents. We had one night. So…I made a Tiki Hut. Seth and Summer helped." He goes and stands where the Tiki hut was, closing his eyes as he remembers. "Tiki torches led to the hut. And there was a little bed inside. And we…yeah." He opens his eyes to see her standing right in front of him, her eyes soft and warm.

"Sounds amazing," she murmurs, looking subtly from his eyes to his lips.

He swallows hard. "It was."

Lightening the mood, she asks, "How do I know you're not just making this up? Maybe we never did have sex."

He laughs, and takes a step closer to her. "You have a birthmark."

"Where?" she challenges.

Taking her by surprise, he slowly moves his hand to her jeans, pressing his fingers just below the button. "Right there," he murmurs, and her whole body tingles.

She blinks, her breath hitching in her throat as she stares at him. He removes his hand and takes a step back, amused smirk on his face. "Yeah. Well."

She ignores his soft laughter as they walk away.

XXXXX

One day, a week and a half before she is supposed to return to Berkeley, she finds him throwing things around in his room.

"Ryan? What are you doing?" she asks, closing the door behind her. Even two weeks ago she would not have been comfortable doing that. Now, she thinks she is most comfortable _with_ him.

"I'm running out of money," he says, throwing his wallet. "And it's not like I can get a job. I don't exactly have a lot of forms of ID with me." He runs his hand through his growing hair. "And it's not like I even _exist_ in this world."

She realizes for the first time how hard this must be for him, and hates herself for not realizing sooner. He has lost his home, his family, his friends, his life, his _identity_. All to come to this world. All to stay with _her_.

He sinks to the bed, and she carefully sits next to him, staring down at her hands as she says, "If you want to go back…you should." She blinks a few times, trying not to show how badly she doesn't want him to go.

She is falling so hard for him.

But if he needs to go, she will let him. Even if it breaks her heart.

He immediately turns to look at her, his hands folded in his lap. "Do you want me to go?" he asks carefully.

She bites her lip, refuses to look over at him because she knows he can read her. He knows her more than anyone ever has. She used to find this scary. Now, she loves it.

"It's not about what I want," she murmurs, playing with her hands.

He reaches over, taking one of her hands in his. His hands are calloused. Warm. But still, oddly enough, soft. "I don't _want _to go back." He rubs his thumb over the top of her hand. "I just don't… it's going to be really hard doing anything here more than a low paying job. If that."

Her whole body sings at his touch, but she will not think about that right now. Right now is about him. "I'm sorry," she says, not knowing what else to say. She does not know how to make a nonexistent person fit into a society where identity information is so crucial.

Turning her cheek so she has to look at him, he stares at her very seriously. "I'm not."

XXXXX

He tells her about their song. Public school. Johnny. How they grew further and further apart, and he felt powerless to stop it. How, if he were honest, he let them go.

How he regretted that every single day after she died.

How he _still _regrets it.

She listens, as she always does. And she tries to see things how he sees them. She wishes she could just close her eyes and be who he wanted her to be. She wishes it _was _her he had fallen in love with.

She doesn't know how it is possible to be this jealous of yourself. Then again, she doesn't quite know how any of this is possible. _Everything _these days is surreal.

He takes her to the cliff. Tells her how he reached out for Johnny's hand, watched him fall as if all in slow motion. How to this day he still closes his eyes and sees Johnny's broken body sometimes. How he still feels guilty.

"How did I always get myself into these situations?" she asks after he grows silent, staring at the rocks. He quirks an eyebrow in question, and she elaborates. "Oliver fell in love with me – ends with a gun. Trey…I don't know what he does…but ends with a gun, almost dead." She gestures towards the cliff. "Johnny falls in love with me, ends up dead. I just…don't understand?"

"No one falls in love with you in this world?" he asks, attempting to make a joke. It's a very bad joke.

"I've dated. There's Luke, Dan who moved here junior year from Texas, and then Kyle from social committee senior year. But that's it. No psychos. I just…went to school, and came home, and tried not to get into any trouble in between." She shrugs. "After my parents found me passed out in front of the house, they made me go to therapy. A lot of therapy. And I hate to admit it, but it _worked_. I _needed it_."

He looks down, thinking how much better her life seems without him there. "I guess I brought a lot of drama," he says quietly.

She shakes her head. "No. I wouldn't say that. _You _didn't bring the drama. It was just different drama. The circumstances weren't the same. The Cohens grew apart because Sandy and Kirsten worked so much and never found time for each other or family. My parents grew apart because my dad was embezzling, and because of my therapy and issues. Sandy and mom bonded over mutual dislike for my father, and Kirsten and my dad because they were always close friends. Are any of them happy? No. But it sounds like they are in _your _world."

Ryan shrugs, looking down at his boots. "I guess."

"Ryan, you didn't cause your Marissa's death. She just died. Your presence didn't doom her to it. Maybe in that world she is just meant to die. I'm meant to die there. And I'm meant to live here. And maybe in another world _you _die, and _I _live. Maybe there's a wandering Marissa out in all these universes stuck in a world that isn't hers, too. We don't know what circumstances or stories are going to play out in any of our lives. And apparently there are a lot of them." She reaches for his hand. "We just…live. And deal. And I guess that's all we can do."

He looks at her, angling his head as he observes the conviction in her gaze. It makes him smile. And it makes him realize she's right. Maybe. Maybe he _didn't _cause Marissa's death. Maybe he _did_. Maybe the universe did. Maybe she was fated since birth to die on that lonely road, whether he was there or not. He cannot know, cannot _ever _know _why_ he had to lose her.

"You always liked to help people. Save them," he tells her, pulling his hand away so he can look around. "You had this selfless heart. It took me way too long to realize it, but you just had such a big heart, and you wanted to save everyone. Oliver. Johnny. Trey." He picks up a seashell embedded in the sand, turning it over in his hands. "Me."

She furrows her eyebrows, walking over to him. "Ryan." He doesn't look up. "Ryan." She is firmer now, and he lifts his gaze to her. "I don't know everything. I wasn't _there_, obviously." She rests her hand on his arm, momentarily amazed at his muscles. "But I've listened to you talk about this girl. And she loved you. That version of me was desperately in love with you." She smiles sadly at him. "And she didn't want to save you. She didn't want you to save her, either. She just wanted to love you. And she hoped you'd do the same."

He blinks a few times, looking down. Finally, he nods. "Okay." He thinks of all his memories with _his _Marissa, and thinks this new Marissa is right. She has made him see something he never saw before. Again. And it makes him miss her so much more. She is standing right in front of him, but it's not the girl he fell in love with once upon a driveway ago.

Even if he _does _love this Marissa, too.

"Thank you," he murmurs again, tapping her shoe with his.

She doesn't question it this time. Just smiles, loops her arm through his. "You're welcome."

XXXXX

The remainder of the story is short. He tells her about Sadie. Volchok. Their break up. Winces at her disappointment when he tells her it was on the phone. He adds that to his list of regrets. His list is running long these days.

He tells her how she spiraled again, and he did nothing about it. It hurts him to say these words, but he told her he would tell her their story, and he _will_. Even the bad. Especially the bad. Because they weren't perfect, but they didn't need to be. Their love was more than that. Even if it took him too long to realize that. Another regret.

He tells her about Berkeley, and prom. How he beat up Volchok, and how he almost stole another car. How he asked her to be his alibi, and she didn't hesitate to help him. She never did.

He tells her about graduation. About Volchok again, and how they worked together one last time. How he didn't know it would be their last time.

He tells her about Greece, and all her goodbyes. How she finally came to terms with everything, and left no relationship unresolved. Except, maybe theirs.

He tells her about the Model Home. And how for a few hours, the four of them were kids again. Kids without drama and regret and pain. Kids who could play in the water and laugh in the sun. Kids whose only concern was to fit as many good moments in before the sun went down.

He tells her he was supposed to drive her to the airport. How they were on their way when _it _happened.

And then he stops.

He has told her everything. Every romantic moment, every tear, every drama. He has told her the story of how he fell in love with her, and what came after it. He has told her about things he never thought he _could _tell her, things he never told _his _Marissa because he hadn't realized how important words were until there weren't any.

But he _cannot _bring himself to utter how she died.

Seeing this, Marissa knows he needs to confront this. And it will probably be the hardest thing he has ever done. But it _needs _to be done. "Show me," she murmurs, squeezing his hand gently.

Without another word, he does.

XXXXX

"We were driving along this road when he hit the car," he tells her, staring out the window. He is not driving. He cannot drive. He can barely think. "You screamed. He kept telling me to pull the car over, but I didn't. I should've, but I didn't." His voice does not break, but his heart is in a million scattered pieces all over the floor.

"We rolled over. Over here." And somehow they get to the road where they ended up. He does not know how Marissa gets there. He does not know much of anything right now. He is only aware of how much it hurts. Everything hurts.

"When I woke up, I knew the car would blow up. And I knew I needed to get to you. I was worried about you." He sighs, then bitterly adds, "With good reason, I guess."

He climbs out of the car, walking to the wreckage site. He has not been here since the accident. He has not been anywhere near here, and after today he never wants to take this road again. Too many memories.

He can _still _hear her screams.

"I pulled you out and dragged you over here." He walks over to the place where he held her in his arms and just stares. He doesn't say a word. He _cannot _speak.

"Did I… wake up?" she asks quietly, coming up beside him.

He nods, swallowing the emotion, or at least trying to. "You asked me to stay."

Marissa has come to know a lot about Ryan in the month she has known him. She knows he doesn't like to show emotion, but that he is getting better at it. That he never liked talking, but is now trying to find the words. That he has gone through hell and back more times than some people do in a lifetime. That he doesn't like to say as much, but he is sometimes overwhelmed with pain.

She knows enough about him to know that he doesn't cry. Not often. He can probably count the number of times on his hand. But he cries now.

She watches as one lone tear escapes. He doesn't wipe it away. Doesn't even look like he notices. He just stares at the spot where he held the girl he loved in his arms as she died. For a while, she almost thinks he isn't breathing. But he is. Raggedly.

"Can we go?" he asks quietly, shutting his eyes.

She nods. "Come on."

XXXXX

He tells her he needs to be alone, and he'll see her tomorrow. She leaves him at Kirsten's house, wanting desperately to go inside and comfort him, but knowing he needs time.

He walks to his room, a room that had never belonged to him in his old world, and sits on the bed. For the first time since he has come here, he lets himself admit that he misses _his _Marissa. Because new Marissa is not the girl he fell in love with all those years ago. Not exactly.

He has fallen in love with this new Marissa. He is more in love with her than he knows what to do with. He does not want to lose her. Or leave. Ever.

But he realizes that he needs to say goodbye to his old Marissa. To _his _Marissa. Because he still hasn't done that. Next week will be eight months since her death, and he still has not said goodbye. He does not know how. He does not even know where to begin.

He is rummaging through his clothes, prepared to maybe go jogging to clear his head, when he sees it. _Her _letter. The one he never read. The one that reached him seven months too late.

He takes the letter to the lifeguard station. It is the only place in this upside down world that still seems connected to her. This was their place when she was still alive. More than even the driveway where they met and she had watched him drive away enough times that it had to be ingrained in her brain. He wonders if she still thought about it before she died – all the times he had left her.

He has never thought of it that way before. _He _left _her_.

Except, now _she _had left _him_. Forever.

With shaking hands, he opens the letter.

XXXXX

Marissa sits in her room surfing the internet, _Forever Young _and _Hallelujah _on repeat in the background. These were the two songs so important to Ryan and his Marissa. Sometimes she wants so desperately to be that girl for him. He misses _her_. Even though she is right here, technically. She knows it isn't the same.

She knows Ryan has his social security card and license in his wallet. He has showed her the two identification cards. He knows this can help him in the future. Somehow. Someway.

Marissa is looking up his options. If he plans on staying in her world, if he _can _stay in her world, he needs to be able to do something. Anything. And she wants his options to be unlimited. She does not want him to live a life he hates just so he can see her. That is not fair. No love should amount to that. She does not care what the hopeless romantics say.

She realizes he can get his GED. He has graduated high school – he can get a GED. It's not as great, but it's _something_. And maybe he can go to a community college for a little while before transferring to Berkeley. Hopefully. If they can get the right kind of documentation. She doesn't know how all of this works, but for the first time she is beginning to feel hopeful.

She knows Ryan wants to be alone tonight, but she is too excited to keep this to herself. She had seen how sad he was when she left, and maybe, _maybe_, this can make him feel a little bit better. It does not stop her death, but it does provide a little bit of hope.

She heads to Kirsten's house, and lets herself in. Seth is in the living room playing video games by himself, and she does not know where Kirsten or her dad are. She honestly doesn't care. She walks to Ryan's room, knocking on the door before opening it. She is surprised to see an empty room.

She is terrified that he has disappeared.

This time, she knows where to look for him. She knows the entire story, and she knows he is at the lifeguard station. If he is still in her world, he will be there. She just knows it.

Summoning all her courage and preparing herself for bitter disappointment, she sets out.

XXXXX

She finds him there staring at a piece of paper. She is quiet, not wanting to startle him. He looks awful. Pained. Grief-stricken. She cannot blame him. She has never lost anyone the way he lost her.

She lowers herself next to him, looking over at him. "Hey."

He does not turn to look at her, just stares at the piece of paper in his hands. "Hey."

"What are you looking at?" she asks softly, eyes fixed on his face.

"A letter."

"From who?"

He finally glances her way, his mouth set in a straight line. He is silent for a minute, then hands over the letter. "See for yourself."

She carefully takes the letter from him, holding it shakily in her hands. She scans the handwriting, and immediately goes cold. "Is this…?"

"Read it," he merely says, his words husky, filled with emotion.

_May 18, 2006_

_Ryan,_

_Today I am going to Greece, and I'm ready. Really. I am. Except, there's one problem. I have no idea how to even begin to say goodbye to you._

_We met almost three years ago at the bottom of a driveway, and my life has never been the same since. We met, and we immediately connected. I don't know why or how the universe knew I needed you in my life, but I'm glad it ended up this way. I'm glad I met you. I'm glad you came to stay. I'm glad we talked and fell in love. I will never forget the way you made me feel, or the way you still make me feel. I love you. I do._

_But we both know what needs to happen now. I need to go to Greece, and you need to go to Berkeley, and we need to move on. I hate to say that, but I know it's the truth. And you know it too. It's time for us to grow up, Ryan. And right now that means we need to grow apart. _

_So, I'm going to Greece. And I'm going to learn how to live on my own in a way I never learned how to do. I'm going to get stronger, and I'm going to make you and everyone proud. But most importantly, I'm going to make myself proud. That's the best part._

_Write to me, okay? Emails, phone calls, whatever. I'd hate to lose you as a friend. And we are that, now, right? Friends? _

_Until I see you again._

_Love,_

_Marissa_

"That's my handwriting," Marissa murmurs, tears in her eyes.

Ryan nods, staring at his hands that are rested on his knees. "You sent it the day you died. It just got lost in the mail. I received it the day I came to your world."

"Why didn't you ever show me this before?" Marissa asks, startled at the letter. She still cannot believe it. Here is proof that there is another world out there. Maybe she can rationalize everything else, but this – _this _is proof.

"I forgot about it," he admits quietly. "And besides, I wanted you to believe me for me, not because of some letter."

She hands him the letter, and he carefully places it back in the envelope before putting it in his pocket. "Is there anything else from your old world?" she asks softly.

He nods, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. He hands it to her, and she carefully opens it as if it is glass and she might break it. She is afraid she might break _something_, she just doesn't know _what_.

She just has to open it and she immediately sees what he has never shown her. A picture of _them_ smiling at the camera, so much happiness on their faces. She blinks quickly, overwhelmed with everything. More proof. Because _she _has never taken a picture with Ryan before.

"That's us on the beach," he murmurs, glancing over her shoulder. "Not long before Trey woke up. We had one last day. Took lots of pictures. You made wallet-sized pictures and I laughed because who puts pictures in their wallet anymore? But I did. I put it in there. And I never took it out, even after we broke up."

She hands him his wallet back, still careful. "Are you okay?"

He thinks about it for a long time, but finally nods. "I think so. I think I needed to read that letter. I needed to hear _my _Marissa telling me goodbye." He blinks away the emotion. He realizes he will _always _feel this way whenever he thinks of his old Marissa. And that's okay.

"I have some options for you. To stay here." At his raised eyebrows, she says, "GED. Community college, maybe? I don't know. But we just might be able to make things work."

"We?" he asks, his lips twitching up, barely noticeable.

"Of course. We're in this together," she says lightly, bumping shoulders with him.

He _does _smile now, though it is sad, and doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Good to know."

She observes him, and even though he is happy in his own way, he is still hurting. She wants to heal him. She does not want to _save_ him, but she wants to protect him. It is a new concept to her. She has never felt the need to help anyone this much. But she _has _to.

"You know what you never told me?" she asks lightly, bumping his shoulder again.

"What is that?" he asks, his eyes slightly sparkling despite the sadness.

"You never told me about our first kiss."

He furrows his eyebrows. "But I thought…"

"You said it was at kickoff carnival. You didn't say where or how or why…"

He realizes she is right, and immediately stands, reaching out his hand. "Come on."

She stands, confused. "Where are we going?"

"I think there's a carnival in town. We're going there. Come on." She takes his hand. She will follow him wherever he goes. It's not even a choice anymore.

He leads her through the carnival grounds, past the booths and games, past the tilt-o-whirl, until they are in front of a ferris wheel. "Good enough," he murmurs, paying the attendant and pulling her on with him.

She is confused as the attendant puts the bars over their laps. "I thought you were afraid of heights."

"I am." He glances over at her, smiling. "But this is for science." She smiles at that, genuinely smiles. That is the first instance of _their _inside joke, _their _memory. It is wonderful to have. When they reach the top, they suddenly jerk to a stop, and his grip on the safety bar tightens. He closes his eyes momentarily, then opens them again and turns to her. "We first kissed on the top of the ferris wheel at kickoff carnival sophomore year." He looks out at the carnival, and it doesn't scare him as much as it used to. Heights. He has already fallen from a place he never thought he'd be able to get back up from. But here is Marissa. And he is not afraid anymore. _Cannot _be afraid anymore.

"We were arguing about Luke before, but I apologized. Said I trusted you. And when you had forgiven me, you decided to distract me from my fear."

"By kissing you," she says, smiling. It is cute.

He nods. "And the rest is history."

She looks out at the carnival now, thinking of how much her life has changed in this one month since he arrived. She met this incredible boy who makes her feel wanted and loved. She learned there are things that cannot be explained. Things that no one ever fathomed were possible. She learned a beautiful love story – _her _love story, in a different life.

She learned that fate has somehow decided she belongs with Ryan Atwood. In two different worlds. Maybe more. Across the stars, they are meant to be together. To find each other. To fall in love. And she has fallen in love. Almost. There is only one thing left.

"I want you to know I believe you," she says softly, turning to look at him. "About everything. And it didn't take some letter or picture to make me realize that. It just took you."

He swallows hard, staring deeply into her eyes. He is amazed by their color. He has always been amazed at the changing color of Marissa Cooper's eyes, but somehow they have never looked more beautiful. "Thank you."

"That's not it," she murmurs, looking deeply into his eyes. Without ever breaking their gaze, she leans in and kisses him softly. Tenderly. She does not ever close her eyes, and neither does he.

In that moment, with her lips against his, Marissa Cooper finishes falling. And Ryan is there to catch her. For the second time.

And at that precise moment somewhere in another world Ryan Atwood's heart stops beating. And his family cries. Taylor cries. They all sob uncontrollably, and do not understand why. They do not understand where he went, or why he had to go. Except for Taylor. Because she always knew.

You cannot exist in two different worlds.

And the only way for Ryan to stay in this world and accept the heart of this spectacular, amazing girl is to leave the old world completely. It is what he has been doing all along.

"I love you," Marissa murmurs as she pulls back. And he almost sheds a tear because he thought he'd never hear those three beautiful words ever again.

"I love you too," he murmurs back, leaning in and kissing her again. And again. And again.

And sitting there on top of a ferris wheel kissing the only girl he can or will ever love, Ryan Atwood finally feels home.


End file.
